Wand-Waving Antics
by caelum-et-infernum
Summary: "And it should be a sin, he thinks, that these lips which design a sound so heavenly, should be so good at kissing too." [ Semi-AU in which Blaine is writing and starring in A Very Potter Musical. Kurt offers to help him ] /Fluffy. Klaine. A Very Potter Musical references. Darren's Afro makes an appearance.


**So this is a request from someone over on tumblr, who asked for a fluffy klaine fic. **

**[my tumblr is caelum-et-infernum so just send me a message on there if you'd like to request something, (large range of fandoms and themes!)]**

**~ahem~**

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN THE PLOT BUT NOTHING ELSE CAPICHE?**

**Please review and tell me what you think. Improvements or bits that you liked would be really helpful to me, and would encourage me to write more! *hint* *hint***

**ENJOY**

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"**It** was really great of you to do this Kurt, I know that you've got loads of other stuff going on." Blaine turns and flashes that trademark winning grin at his boyfriend and drags him towards the auditorium, his palm warm against Kurt's slim wrist.

"Well, you know me.." Kurt replies with one brow raised playfully, "always up for some wand-waving antics." Kurt winks and catches up to Blaine's spry pace.

Blaine swings the doors open and Kurt cannot comprehend the sight in front of him. He cups a delicate palm to his mouth in a manner that is in itself anything but delicate, and suppresses a high pitched squeal. Blaine can hear it in the intake of his breath, regardless.

The auditorium has never looked so beautiful. It's almost as though they are no longer captive to the tedium of Lima Heights, but rather, about to step into a whole new world entirely.

The backdrop of the stage has been painted in swirling pastel colours, and there are meandrous lengths of fabric hanging languidly from hooks on the walls. The fabric flutters in the newly stirred air, and it glitters ever so slightly, like suffocating stars in the night sky. The draperies too are pastel pinks and peaches, and are framed by yellow-white fairy lights. These twinkling beacons have been used gratuitously but this only adds to the magical aura surrounding the room.

"What do you think?"

In the silence created where Kurt should reply, Blaine enthusiastically explains the scene to him. "It's the ballroom where Draco finally realizes that he is in love with Hermione. You know, where him and Ron sing about it; _GRANGER DANGER_! Pretty neat, huh?"

Kurt wants to tell him that it's more than neat; that it's utterly bewitching. But he cannot seem to find the words so he nods and asks Blaine whether he did all this himself. Blaine nods and shrugs modestly.

They both head down toward the stage; Blaine briskly, and Kurt still in a dreamlike trance. Upon the stage there is a large rack of costumes, sat broodingly, dead-centre. Blaine pulls one out at random; it's a brightly coloured clown suit, (red nose not included). Kurt eyes it suspiciously, wondering how something quite so hideous could ever be allowed to see the light of day.

"I need you to help me out with costumes!" Blaine is practically leaping around the stage like an excited puppy, throwing hats and scarves about with reckless abandon. Kurt watches him fondly, silently proud of the fact that Blaine values his fashion advice. It has to be said that Kurt Hummel could work even your grandma's most hideous sweater into a sharp, stylish outfit.

Kurt rifles through the clothes, tutting at the horror show in front of him. Barely any of this rubbish is salvageable "Look at us, rifling through clothes, on a stage, surrounded by pink curtains and fairy lights. This has got so many layers of gay-stereotyping written all over it."

_A few minutes later_, Kurt has selected an outfit. "So, this scene is a dance, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you're playing Harry?"

"That's right. What have you got for me?"

"_Well_…" Kurt holds up some suit pants and a yellowed shirt, which Blaine dutifully takes, and then grapples with what looks like an old overcoat. When Kurt does manage to grasp it by the shoulders, Blaine sees that it is, in fact, an evening jacket. It's burgundy, although age has made it darker in some places, and it has tan coloured patches on both elbows. It's not bad, in a tastelessly classic kind of way. You might even describe it as Gatsby-esque. The only downside to it is the collar and sleeves, which are covered in a thick, fuzzy material that looks suspiciously like old carpet.

"What is that?" Blaine asks, his eyebrows knitting together, wondering if Kurt has lost his mind.

"This is a comedy, so you _have_ to wear something comical, right? This is perfect. It has just the right dressy vibe, and the colour will go great with your eyes. I suspect that it will get a laugh or two from the audience too. Not even my great aunt Nancy would wear this, and she's blind! As for the yellow shirt, that will compliment the pastels on the stage and won't clash too much with this jacket. This is perfect, if I do say so myself. Kurt Hummel, ace-fashionista, strikes again!"

Kurt throws the jacket at Blaine, and they both watch as a cloud of dust and musty air rises from it.

"Uh… I don't _disagree_ with you Kurt, but it's going to need a wash before I will even think about putting it on."

They smile at each other across the luggage rack, and the moment is tangibly rife with beauty, that is, until the smell of mold reaches them and Blaine is forced to throw the coat off of the edge of the stage.

"We'll fetch that later… now, what do I do with my hair?"

Kurt does not hesitate to join Blaine on his side of the rack, and a second later he is circling him. His intense gaze is focused on the crown of Blaine's head

He stops directly in front of Blaine, smiling playfully and reaching one hand forward. Before Blaine can even think about protesting, Kurt is running his fingers through his heavily gelled hair. He separates the strands with his fingers, reveling in the pleasantly sweet smell and slightly sticky sensation that the gel creates. His skin looks even paler than normal, compared to Blaine's dark curls, which have now gathered in full force after having been released from their cloying prison.

"_Hey_!" Blaine pushes Kurt's hand away, awkwardly patting at the unruly mess that now resides on his head. Kurt doesn't see what the big issue is here. Blaine looks _adorable_ with his natural curls. It makes him look younger, more innocent, but at the same time, it suggests a sort of wildness and gives him more of a presence. Certainly, Kurt finds him irresistibly magnificent like this; peering shyly from under his mop of hair, with wide eyes that glitter in the artificial light. He leans forward, placing one hand on either side of his face and kisses him on the tip of his nose. He pulls back only so far as to look into his dark eyes, and feel Blaine's ringlets tickle his forehead.

It's Blaine that eventually moves away, although he does so with ostensible reluctance. "I need to run a musical number past you. Your opinions would be so helpful."

"Alright, _play on_!" Blaine sits at the piano and Kurt leans lazily against the top, head in his hands. From this position he can see a slight wrinkle in Blaine's forehead, a sign that he is concentrating. He clearly means to impress with this one.

After a few moments of absent-minded key pressing and silence that is broken by only a few lonely, discordant sounds, Blaine starts to play. His fingers hover over the keys at first, finding the right chords and checking the rhythm in his suddenly the air is _heavy_ with music. It envelops them. And despite the fact that the piano is out of tune, and one stubborn key sticks, and the piano's innards are groaning balefully, Kurt is certain that he has never heard anything so stunning.

He is unprepared for what happens next. Blaine's voice cuts over the piano, and suddenly everything about this moment is so right. The terrible piano, and the musty clothes and that one lightbulb that is flickering obstinately, become some of Kurt's most favourite things in the entire world.

The messy haired, glorious boy sitting at the piano is his, and it makes Kurt's heart swell, and he'd blame it on the soulful-skill with which Blaine sings, but really this feeling has always been there, just waiting for the opportunity to explode within him. It wreaks havoc on his lungs and his legs, which both simultaneously fail to do their job, leaving him breathless and unstable but it's an entirely delightful feeling. He is both surprised and tremendously in love with the fact that he is literally under the spell that Blaine is casting upon him with his voice alone. Even Kurt's body is staging a mutiny and he is left with whatever wits he can gather from within his clouded mind. He doesn't even notice that Blaine has finished. He dimly acknowledges a deep sense of emptiness that spreads from the cavity of his chest to the very tips of his fingers and toes, but it takes Blaine several loud coughs to fully draw Kurt's attention.

"So, what did you think? I mean, I could go back and change the chorus or maybe rewrite the melody but-" Kurt cuts Blaine's nervous rambling off, amazed at how he can feel so self-conscious about something that is so damningly close to pure perfection, "It's perfect, and if you dare change a single thing about it, I'll hide your hair gel where you will never ever find it."

Blaine pulls Kurt down to his chest, and Kurt perches on Blaine's lap, his long legs crossing elegantly to meet at the ankles. Kurt takes one last long look at his boyfriend and then shuts his eyes with perhaps more force than necessary, as he leans in to press their lips together.

And it should be a _sin_, he thinks, that these lips which design a sound so heavenly, should be so good at kissing too.

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**I hope you liked it, if you did then please tell me which bits you liked especially.**

**If you did not, then do tell me why.**

**I'd love to hear from you.**

**-caelum-et-infernum xoxo**


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